When the Wolves Come Out to Play
by thecheekygirl
Summary: Scott and Stiles thought they had it bad before? Wait until another wolf pack wonders into Beacon Hills. Now it's alpha versus alpha, and both packs look like they're ready to tear into the competition. But it seems that they aren't the only new kids on the block. Let the games begin! SYOC, ocs needed. Open.


******Okey, dokey, kids! Here's a new one for you: a Teen Wolf SYOC fic! This fic will take priority until further notice, and I apologize for any errors in the intro. Rules and whatnot are at the bottom, but don't get too excited and forget to read the introduction.**

******This story is rated 'T', for language and blood, and may even go up to 'M' depending on the situations and what the readers want.**

******Anyway, I hope you like it and send in an oc please!**

* * *

The sound of shoes squeaking echoed off the walls of the Beacon Hills High School gym. Most students run the length of the gym back and forth, as they were told. But three students stood near the entrance, talking quietly amongst themselves.

A more than irritated Jackson Whittemore leaned against a wall, arms crossed, as he listened to Scott McCall and 'Stiles' Stilinski warn him about himself.

"Look, all I'm saying is stay inside," Scott advised.

"It's a full moon tonight, and we can't take any chances," Stiles added, before glancing around the gym and whispering, "I'll stop by your house later with the _stuff_."

"I don't need your shi-"

The clicking of high heels against the hickory hardwood of the gymnasium floor caused Jackson to stop mid-sentence. It seemed to stop everyone, in fact. All eyes and heads turned to the gym doors as a girl with black hair stood with a lone sheet of paper and a navy blue backpack slung over her right shoulder. She had light brown eyes, decorated with black batwing eyeliner and her lips were painted with bright red lipstick. Her hair, black with blonde highlights, was cut in a pixie style and her bangs swept across her forehead - covering her eyebrows. A black bandana was wrapped around her head like a headband. Her sliver nose stud made Jackson cringe, almost as much as her clothing did. Her sleeveless gray tank top read, "I don't give a hoot", as an owl sat in the middle of it. A pair of black skinny jeans, ripped at the knees, covered her legs. Her blue pumps were to blame for the interruption.

"Can I help you?" Mr. Bobby Finstock, the Physical Education teacher, called out from his spot near the rock-climbing wall.

The girl turned her attention to Mr. Finstock, walked over to him, and handed him the sheet of paper.

"Ah, so you're the new student..." Mr. Finstock mumbled as he glanced over the sheet, "Ms...Ms...?"

"Flynns," The girl answered, "Joanna Flynns."

"Well, alrighty then, Ms. Flynns," The coach of the BHHS lacrosse team passed the paper back to Joanna, before turning to the rest of the class, "Listen up! I want everyone to run three more laps, and make them good!"

A chorus of moans rung out as the squeaking of gym shoes began again. Mr. Finstock then looked towards the trio at the entrance, "Bilinski!"

Stiles quickly stiffened when he heard his last name mispronounced. "Get over here, lazy," Mr. Finstock called to him. Stiles jogged over, leaving Scott and Jackson behind.

"What's up, coach?" Stiles questioned as he approached Mr. Finstock.

"I need you to take Ms. Flynns here to the girl's locker room," Mr. Finstock motioned to Joanna, then gave Stiles a very serious look, "You better not go in though, Bilinski. Cause if you do, you're never gonna be able to even _look_ at my lacrosse field again, got it?"

"Uh, will do, coach!" Stiles' eyes grew big, but he nodded at his teacher's request.

As Stiles and Joanna walked passed Scott and Jackson, Scott's eyes suddenly changed to an eerie golden glow.

"Did you feel that?" Scott asked Jackson, as the duo exited the gym.

"Yeah..." Jackson continued to watch the door in confusion, "What was that?"

"I think, we might have a problem," Scott frowned as he, too, stared at the gym doors.

* * *

"So..." Stiles rubbed the back of his head, while walking down the halls of Beacon Hills High. Starting a conversation had never been a problem for him before, but this girl was different. She had ignored at his previous attempts. He tried talking about school, sports, movies, he even went as far as to discuss shopping and clothes. Yet, the girl had either given him one-word answers or none at all. Stiles knew about the phrase, "Like talking to a brick wall", but he had never actually experienced before.

"...what does your mom do?" Stiles finally decided on a new topic.

"...I don't know," Joanna sighed, realizing that the boy wasn't about to give up, "She doesn't really do anything, I guess."

"She's... She's not dead, is she?" Stiles winced as he over analyzed the girl's response.

"What? No, Catherine James could never die…" Joanna gave him a sideways glance, before rolling her eyes.

"Thank God..." Stiles whispered, happy he didn't offend the girl before he even got to know her.

"That kid, with the curly brown hair," Joanna suddenly spoke up, as the two rounded a corner, getting closer to the locker rooms, "What's his name?"

"Uh... Do you mean Scott?" The boy asked her, as his mind went through all the brown curly headed boys in his gym class.

"Scott, huh?" Joanna seemed to smirk slightly, "Interesting."

Stiles stopped short of the girls' locker room, his stomach twisting into knots.

"Thanks for walking me here, Stiles," The girl spoke as the corner of her lips curved upward, "See ya around."

Stiles watched as Joanna disappeared into the locker room. Suddenly, he threw up his hands up in frustration before slapping his hand against his forehead, "I forgot to tell her my name!"

But instantly, a frown found its way on Stiles' face, as he continued to stand there, "Wait, how...did she know my name then?"

* * *

Stiles gave Scott a weary look as he crossed the lacrosse field to reach his best friend. He wore his lacrosse gear along with the helmet, but Scott could still tell something was wrong.

"Dude, there's something weird about that new girl," Was the first thing out of Stiles' mouth when he finally got to Scott.

"Yeah, I know," Scott sighed, as he put on his helmet, "I got that feeling again..."

"The wolf-ie one?" Stiles questioned as he readjusted his gloves.

"Yep, that's the one," Scott looked around, searching for one particular person, "Jackson felt it, too."

Before Stiles could comment on the situation, Coach Finstock called for the team's attention. "Everyone gather around," He beckoned, as he cleared his throat, "We got another new student."

Stiles and Scott made their way over to their lacrosse coach, only to notice the new student standing beside him.

"This is Oliver, uh, Ballou?" Mr. Finstock turned to the boy for approval, which he was given along with a smile, "He recently moved from the town over, or something like that... Anyway, he'll be trying out for the team today."

"But tryouts were a few months ago," Danny Māhealani pointed out from his spot next to Isaac Lahey, who sported an unimpressed expression.

"Yes, well, I figured since we have such a poor team, that it wouldn't hurt to waste some time," Coach Finstock mocked sarcastically, before shouting at Danny, "He's planning to go to college for lacrosse! Do you really think I'd waste my time if he couldn't play?"

"It's alright, coach," The boy interrupted, "I don't mind proving I'm the best."

"Ha! That's what I like to hear," Coach Finstock slapped the boy on the back, "Alright, line up, shooting drill!"

Stiles felt a ping of jealousy shoot through him when he actually got time to look at the kid. With a helmet in one hand and a lacrosse stick in the other, Oliver looked about 5'11" and seemed pretty well built to Stiles. His light brown hair was in an uncut style, with his bangs jelled up. His eyes were dark blue and his cheeks were covered in freckles. A cocky smile sat smugly on his face, and that's when Stiles noticed that the smile was directed towards him.

"Hey," Oliver greeted as he walked towards Stiles, extending a hand in his direction, "I'm Oliver, but just call me 'Oly'."

"Stiles," He replied, grabbing the hand offered to him and shaking it.

A whistle ended their introductions, as Coach Finstock yelled, "I said, line up! That includes you, Bilinski!"

Stiles got in line behind of Scott, but in front of Oliver, who Jackson insisted go before him. Danny was put in the goal, and everyone took turns shoot at him. Everyone had shot once, and they were doing another round, when Scott noted how chummy Jackson and Oliver were getting. Everyone was back in line, waiting their turn.

"So, why Stiles?" Oliver asked suddenly as he stood behind Stiles in the line up.

"Because," Stiles answered a bit irritated, gripping his lacrosse stick tighter. He hated when people asked about his name, especially people who got along with Jackson.

"I don't know," Oliver said, talking more to himself now, "I think it's kinda stupid." The grip on Stiles' stick was threatening as his knuckles began to turn whites.

"Bilinski! Go! You're holding up the line!" Coach Finstock yelled, causing the boy to jump into action. He ran at the goalie, shot the ball, and missed the goal by more than an inch or two. Coach Finstock blew his whistle and called Stiles out for "completely missing the damn goal".

"Ballou! You're on defense!" Mr. Finstock pointed to the new student and then to a spot in front of the goal. Oliver gladly jogged to the spot, adjusted his helmet, and gave Coach Finstock the thumbs-up.

"Alright, let's go! Greenburg, you're first!" Mr. Finstock looked to Stiles, before he blew his whistle once more.

Stiles nodded, as he changed his grip on his stick. With the ball in his cradle, Stiles charged at Oliver. What happened next, had everyone running towards the middle of the field. Right before Stiles reached Oliver, he began run at Stiles as well. Oliver aimed his shoulder and rammed it into Stiles' rib cage. There was a loud cracking noise, and then Stiles hit the ground hard.

"Stiles!" Scott yelled, ripping his helmet off his head and running to his friend.

"Whoa! Time out!" Coach Finstock called, but he couldn't manage to hide his grin. As he, and the rest of the lacrosse team, rushed over to the two boys, Coach Finstock whispered to Oliver, "Nice hit, we need that on defense."

"Haha, thanks," Oliver whispered back, just as a hand clasped his shoulder. He looked to find Jackson with a wide smile on his face.

"Can't take a hit, Stilinski?" Jackson laughed, patting Oliver's shoulder.

"Asshole, that was out of line!" Scott retorted, almost growling at Oliver, "You were on defense, not on attack!"

"So? He was being smart, and met the attacker before he could reach the goal," Jackson justified, causing Oliver to smile at him.

"Calm down, McCall," Coach Finstock spoke as he bent down beside an unconscious Stiles Stilinski. He placed a hand on Stiles throat and checked for a pulse, "He's still breathing, so he'll be okay."

"Okay? I'm pretty sure I heard a rib crack!" Scott growled.

"I'm pretty sure it was just his padding," Oliver corrected, rolling his eyes.

Scott moved forward and grabbed Oliver by the front of his uniform, pulling his fist back, "You better hope it was his padding, because if it wasn't-"

"Dude..." Everyone turned their attention from Scott and Oliver to see Stiles sitting up, "What happened...?"

* * *

"There's nothing normal about someone breaking a shoulder pad in half," Stiles shook his head as he stared at his broken padding. He sat on one of the beds in the nurse's office, unharmed aside from a slight headache, while Scott stood near the windows. The nurse had left for the day, so they had the office to themselves.

"I didn't get the feeling, though..." Scott mumbled, as he studied Stiles' lacrosse padding from afar.

"He has to be a wolf, there's no other possible explanation for his strength," Stiles argued, angry that his lacrosse gear was broken.

"Well, there is-" Scott started, but quickly stopped when he glanced out the window. There, standing in front of his black Chevy Camaro - staring straight at him - was Derek Hale.

* * *

"You'd better have a good reason to be here, Derek," Scott warned as he marched out of the school and up to the older boy.

"Yeah, cause we aren't in the greatest of moods right now," Stiles added, following close behind Scott, with his broken shoulder pad in hand.

"When are you ever, Princess Stilinski?" Derek snarled, before turning to Scott, "And let me assure you, I'm not here to cause any trouble."

"Then why are you here?" Scott asked, hoping that Derek's reason wasn't what he thought it was.

"We have a big problem. There's some wolves in town," Derek sighed, as he glanced towards the school, "And I don't think they're here to exchange wolfsbane recipes."

* * *

******Plot: A new wolf pack has moved into Beacon Hills, and is threatening to make the town their territory. Scott and the gang have to work together to defend their home and fight off the competition. There'll be some romance, betrayals, and maybe even some character death (ooh). Joanna will be the alpha, while Oliver will be a hunter. I'll need at least 4 oc werewolves, 3 oc hunters, and 2 oc humans.**

**Rules:**

**- _NO_ Mary Sues or John Dulls. Be creative!**

**- _All_ ocs must be submitted through _PM_. Any sent through review will be ignored and will not be given a spot.**

**- No oc is allowed to be related to cannon characters.**

**- You may submit more than one oc, but just know that not all of your ocs will be accepted.**

**- Put the_ full name of Joanna's "mother"_ at the top of your form, that way I know you read the intro.**

**- Put your oc's full name as the subject of your PM.**

**That's it! I'm really looking forward to this, so send those babies in! Oh, oops, I forgot: the oc form is on my profile.**

**- _Cheeky_**


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